Smitten
by cityofthefandoms
Summary: Derek may or may not have a crush on Sophie McCall... There's only three problems: (a) she's several years younger than him; (b) she hates his guts - probably; and (c) she's dating Alexander Argent. [featuring male!Allison x fem!Scott and lots of pining from Derek. Follows each episode through Seasons 1 to 4. Ask if you have questions!]
1. Wolf Moon

**Just for the record, I have nothing wrong ****_whatsoever _****with male!Scerek, or any other slash pairings (FYI I love Scerek in any variation) . This only came to me because I wandered what a young Melissa McCall would look like (Melissa Ponzio is totally gorgeous) and then I had the idea of the unruly mass of curls and one thing led to another and Sophie (my fem!Scott) was born. Sophie is basically a female Posey; just take early season one Posey, give him curly hair like Melissa's down to her shoulders, a female body, and a slightly more feminine facial structure (not that there's anything wrong with Posey exactly the way he is ;) )**

**This storyline generally stays canon, but will deviate as I add my own bits and bobs. But for now, I'm generally following the storyline of the show, but from (my idea of) Derek's point of view.**

**Also, Allison becomes Alexander in this. Just in case later on you wonder where Allison is, and who the hell is Alex(ander).**

* * *

Honestly, Derek doesn't know how or when it happened. One moment, Sophie McCall is just some newly-bitten beta (who just happens to be very pretty); and the next he's got some highschool crush on the kid. Yes, _kid_. She's seven years younger than him, for Christ's sake.

Okay, he's lying. He has an _idea_ of whenabouts it happened – 'it' being the acknowledgement of the 'crush' – but he's not positive. He thinks it was about the time when Kate Argent turned up in Beacon Hills and shot him with the wolfsbane bullet. Then again, he's not entirely sure. Sophie kind of just _happened_ to him, though by the speed at which she did, he had hoped it was just some stupid infatuation.

(Spoiler Alert: It wasn't.)

But (in Derek's mind, at least) there was a ton of other stuff that happened before his ex turned up in town to screw him over again, or acknowledging he had a thing for the other beta. Other stuff, like the first time he met her.

* * *

It was a beautiful day. Sun shining, birds chirping, not a cloud in the sky. Okay, that's another lie. He doesn't remember what the weather was like – there could have been a hurricane and he wouldn't have noticed – because he was too busy trying not to stare at the pretty girl standing next to the Sherriff's son. The conversation was short, and mainly consisted of Sophie (though he didn't know her name then) wanting her inhaler back and himself warning the duo to stay out of the woods for their own safety. Honestly, though, he doesn't remember the conversation much because he was (a) trying to assess whether the increasing heart rate was his own or belonged to one of the others' and (b) guessing which of them was the new beta. He had heard the howl of the Alpha the previous night, and had smelled both the scents of Stilinski Junior and the Pretty Girl in the forest. If his sense of smell was still up-to-scratch (which it was) he could've sworn that the girl's scent remained in the woods longer than the boy's did, meaning she was in the woods longer, leading to the assumption that the Pretty Girl was the new beta, and she didn't actually need her inhaler anymore. But he didn't tell her that because that would have been overly creepy and unnecessary. She'd figure it out for herself, sure enough. When – of course – she figured out she was (in fact) a werewolf. Shock to the system, much?

As he walked away from the duo, he heard Stilinski call her 'Soph', which was short for 'Sophie' and 'Sophia', which meant _wisdom_ in Greek. What a lovely name… _STOP THINKING ABOUT HER!_

Derek decided to stay as close as possible to her. Bitten wolves were more prone to anger, meaning a transformation in front of humans, and that would put everyone in the vicinity in danger. Staying near her meant he could keep an eye on her, and keep both other people and Sophie safe. It was totally _not_ relevant that she was very, very pretty. So it was for that reason that he found himself taking off towards the town's vet after walking away from Stilinski and Sophie. He had heard Stilinski ('Stiles', she had called him) remind her that she needed to get to the vet, and seeing as there was only one in town, it had to be Deaton's. He had been right. No sooner had Derek arrived, had a blue jeep pulled up outside and Sophie hopped out.

"Need a lift later?" Stiles called out to her.

"Nah, my mom's picking me up. Thanks!"

"What are best friends for?"

"Yeah, yeah, whatever."

"See ya!" he'd called cheerily as he pulled away, and Sophie entered the building.

_And now we wait_. God knew what time her shift finished. In fact, an hour and a half later (after listening to her hum ridiculous pop songs over and over again) he had decided that there was no reason to stay, because she couldn't get angry and hurt someone because no one was there to _get_ her angry. That was, until a car pulled up outside and a teenage boy got out the car and started pounding on the door to the vet's.

It opened and Sophie stood in the door, face slowly turning red and Derek could hear her saying, "Uhh… Alex?"

But before she even finished Alex was babbling some nonsense about a dog and it coming out of nowhere and –

"It's okay, it's okay. Can you tell me where the dog is so I can go get it?"

"No, no, I've got it, it's here," he said quickly and suddenly they were out in the rain and retrieving the anxious dog from the car. It snapped at Alex and a guilty sense of satisfaction ran through Derek at that. He didn't like Alex. He didn't know why.

"Let me try," Sophie offered, and she only looked at the dog and it calmed down enough to let her stroke it.

"How'd you manage that?" Alex asked her in confusion and awe.

"I'm used to dogs," she replied, blushing and smiling at him, and Derek didn't like that at all. So that's what it was: he was jealous of Alex; so much for _not_ acting like a teenager.

And even though it was raining cats and dogs, Derek found himself waiting outside of the vet's with Sophie and the annoying Alex boy talking inside. The next thing he knew – it could have been five minutes later, or fifty – they were outside again and Alex was asking her on a _date_ to some party on Friday… which was incidentally the night of the full moon. Of course she said yes – she had a thing for the kid (that was obvious) – but that didn't help the irritation that only grew when Alex leant over and kissed her on the cheek. Stupid teenagers and their stupid crushes, but a voice that sounded a hell of a lot like Laura's said, _you're no better_.

"You need a lift home? I can wait for you to lock up."

"Don't worry about it. My mom's on the way from work; she'll be here in the next ten minutes."

"Should I wait for you then?"

"I'll be fine. I've got Buster to take care of me."

"Buster? _That's_ what you're calling him

"Eh; seems as good as anything else, and I'll probably end up calling him K-9 by the end of the week."

"Subtle _Doctor Who _reference there, I see."

"You can blame Stiles for that."

"Actually, I'll probably be thanking him."

Sophie was blushing again, and Derek gritted his teeth because he should _really not be affected _by that.

"I guess I'll see you tomorrow in English, then," said Alex

"Uhh, yeah, okay. Bye!"

"Bye, Sophie," Alex said, before getting into his car. With a final wave, he backed out of the parking space and drove off, leaving Sophie standing in the middle of the parking lot grinning like an idiot.

That's it. He'd had enough of Sophie with her pretty face and her chocolate brown eyes and her cute smile and her dimples and her unruly curly hair that went halfway down her back but was currently tied back in a French braid and – _how do I even know that's a French braid?!_

It was a good thing that her mom pulled up just then because he was going to _completely freaking lose it_ if he thought about how pretty she was again. Sophie locked up within minutes (calling, "Night, kids!" to the animals [which Derek found very cute]), getting into the car and pulling away; unknowingly leaving Derek alone in the rain to stalk off into the woods, in the direction of home.

_Teenagers_, he huffed as he trudged up the front stairs and into the derelict house that once belonged to the Hale pack.

* * *

On the night of the full moon, Derek followed Alex's car from Sophie's house to the house of the party, and stationed himself near the back gate in case she had a transformation in front of everyone, so he could get her out of there. That would not go down well; for her or anyone else.

Only an hour after Sophie and Alex arrived, the clouds parted to reveal the Full Moon, and Derek could feel himself getting agitated. Full Moons were hard for all wolves – even born ones – but especially for those bitten. As if on cue, he heard Sophie saying that she felt ill, and the next thing she was running into the house, calling for Stiles while groaning in pain. She must've found him, because moments later the blue jeep pulled off, and Alex was standing alone on the front porch, looking worried.

Derek approached him, half thinking, "Ha! She left you!" but that barely counted as a victory. He shouldn't feel so much joy at the forlorn look on the boy's face.

"She's not been feeling very well recently," Derek started to Alex, who looked up in confusion. "Must be the drinks."

"I'm sorry: you are?"

"My bad. I'm Derek. I'm a friend of Sophie's." A lie, but it didn't mean anything. He held out his hand for Alex to shake – which he did hesitantly. Alex gave him a small smile, and he had a firm grip... and Derek usually judged a person's character by their handshake. _Damn you and your decent manners_.

"Alex," he said, "I was meant to be here with her. Is she alright?"

"Oh, yes. Nothing a good night's sleep and some painkillers can't handle."

"Oh… okay then. Well I'd better be going."

"You're not staying?"

"Sophie was my only reason for coming," Alex admitted, "If she's gone, then there's no real point in me being here."

"Fair enough."

"Tell I said to get better soon. And nice meeting you, Derek," he said, unlocking and opening the door to his car.

"You too," Derek said, nodding at the teenager as he got into his car and drove away.

_Yeah, right_.

* * *

Less than an hour later, Derek managed to track Sophie to a clearing in the woods which was dangerously near to the town. It didn't help that it was her first full moon, or she was completely losing it, because a family of hunters – the Argents – had moved into Beacon Hills earlier that week. If he wasn't careful, they'd both get caught and killed, and he couldn't – _wouldn't _– let anything happen to the other beta.

But as soon as he'd managed to get the near-hysterical teenage girl under something that resembled calm, he heard a twig snap somewhere nearby. The hunters were close. Grabbing her wrist none too gently (he couldn't be worried about being 'friendly' if it meant keeping her alive) they managed to make a couple of metres before they used a flash-arrow and she became too disorientated to dodge out of the way of another arrow, which went through her forearm and held her to a tree trunk. Derek winced as she screamed in pain and the trio of hunters emerged; the main one turned to one of his men and told him to, "Take it down."

'It'. Like being a werewolf made you lose your humanity.

_No way in hell _was he going to let them hurt Sophie, so as the bald one went to ready his crossbow, Derek threw him against a tree and knocked out the other one, leaving the leader armed with just a puny silver pistol. Only one downside to _that_ amazing plan: the hunters now knew that there were not one, but two werewolves in the area. The Argents already knew about Derek, but they hadn't known about Sophie. Now they knew it wasn't just Derek in Beacon Hills, there was a pretty good chance they'd call for 're-enforcements'.

After disbanding the pack of hunters, Derek managed to get the other beta well away from the clearing. By the time he considered them 'safe' for the night, her wound had fully healed.

"Who were they?" Sophie asked him, panting for breath.

"Hunters. Their kind has been hunting us for centuries."

"_Us? _You mean you! You did this to me!" she shouted at him.

Okay, that stung.

"What, the bite? Is it really so bad? Is it really so awful that you can see better, hear better, move faster than any human could ever hope to? You're in better health. You heal almost instantly, and you don't even need your inhaler anymore."

"_What_?"

"The healing element of being one of _us_ means that you're asthma free. You don't need an inhaler anymore. Isn't that great? You said yourself, they cost like 80 bucks."

"How do you know I said that?"

"Advanced hearing, remember? I heard you when you went to find it the other day."

He has to admit, _that_ sounded vaguely stalker-ish. He didn't get a chance to cover it up because she'd started shaking and tears were brimming over and running down her face. He hadn't had to deal with a crying teenage girl in years, and suddenly he became exceedingly awkward and so – for reasons unknown to him – he decided to say, "Are you alright?"

_Real smooth, Derek! _He berated himself, but the glare that Sophie gave him was enough to make his blood run cold.

"'_Are you alright?' _Yes, of course, I'm just _peachy_ after turning into a freaking _werewolf_ and finding out that there are forever going to be hunters on my ass because of one bite that you just _decided _to give me because I was all alone in the woods one night. So yeah, I'm just _super!_"

"I didn't bite you. I'm only a beta; just one of the pack. Only an Alpha can turn someone with the bite."

"Oh, shut up," she spat at him.

Shaking, she fished her phone out of her pocket and hit a button, which must've taken her straight to speed dial because she had held her phone up to her ear and said, "Stiles?"

Derek heard the voice of the sheriff's son answer, "Oh, thank god. Are you alright?"

And it stung a little (okay, a lot) when she replied with none of the malice she'd directed at Derek for exactly the same question, "Not really. I'm kind of in the middle of a crisis." And was there a _laugh_ in there? Derek clenched his jaw, unnoticed by Sophie _of course_, because she was too busy on the phone to stupid Stilinski.

"Okay. Where are you? I'm coming to pick you up."

"I'm near the road that comes off of the interstate."

"Okay. I'll be there in five."

The phone clicked off and she dropped it on the floor before biting into her sweater and screaming into it. Derek stood there, stunned, as Sophie muffled her screams and sobs and dug her nails into her wrist. When she seemed worn out, after she wiped her tears he picked up her phone and handed it to her, which she took hesitantly, giving him a cautious look.

"See you later, I guess, _Derek_," she said and headed off to the road she had mentioned on the phone, steadying herself against trees as she walked. She was still pissed off at him – that much was obvious – but she needed him to help her control her transformations and so surely she'd come back…?

And the fact that he wanted her to come back more than he should've was trouble in itself.

He was so completely screwed.

* * *

**Hope that wasn't horrific. Just in case you didn't get it, Stiles is male and they've been best friends since they were like five. Stiles has turned Sophie into a semi-'geek'; she likes 'geek' stuff, but isn't as invested in it (emotionally or time-wise) as Stiles is. No, Stiles doesn't _like_ Sophie like that, or vice versa. They're purely best friends, more like brother and sister. It would feel wrong for them to date. **

**Please read and review. I'll update each chapter as an episode, and whenever I get the chance x**


	2. Second Chance At First Line

**I'm so happy everyone enjoyed the last chapter! My writing _isn't _totally horrific after all!**

* * *

A couple of days later, Derek dropped by the lacrosse field at the high school to see how Sophie was. Granted, she probably didn't want to be within 100 miles of him, but that was hardly an option. They were both betas, both werewolves; and as Derek had been born one, he knew how to handle anger, his pulse, and he felt it his _responsibility_ to teach her what he knew, so she didn't get herself killed. He didn't know if he'd be able to bear that.

He got to the field just as he saw some jackass shove her so hard she went flying and she fell to the ground with a groan. The kid even had the nerve to laugh as he said, "Still want to be first line?"

From Derek's limited knowledge of lacrosse, he was aware that first line was one of the best positions. And he couldn't help the happy feeling that came from acknowledging his Sophie was first line, and the only girl on the team, judging by the fact she was the only girl in the kit. Wait... _His Sophie? She's not your anything. She hates you._ And yet the feeling wouldn't go away.

That was, until, she fell to her knees after barrelling into the jackass, and he could've sworn she was about to shift. A prediction only cemented by her panting, "It's happening, Stiles. I can't control it."

"What? Right here? Now? Come on, get up. Up you get," Stiles told her as he hauled her to her feet and towards the locker rooms, away from Derek and the growing crowd of people around the probably-injured jackass. Or, judging by the back of his kit, _Whitmore_.

In all honesty, Derek probably should've followed Stiles and Sophie to the locker room. It was only her second or third Shift, and while _he_ knew that the key was to keep your pulse low, _she_ didn't. Although, it probably wouldn't help anyone if Derek walked in in the middle of a Shift. She'd get even more riled up, and Stiles would be in danger then. And if Stiles got hurt . . .

No, Derek would stay out of this one. He couldn't be there all the time, but Stiles could. Pale, skinny, loyal Stiles who Sophie called at stupid-o'clock at night and came driving down to the middle of the preserve just to pick her up. If anyone could figure it out, Stiles could.

* * *

That night, Derek snuck into Sophie's room through the open window. Creepy, he knew, but he couldn't afford for her mom to see him, and he needed to get to her soon. So when he got through the open window, he found Sophie video chatting with – shocker(!) – Stiles. Apparently, the jackass she'd barrelled into earlier (whose name was actually Jackson) had a separated shoulder because of her. Well, it wasn't her fault he was a jackass. He got what was coming.

"It looks like someone's behind you," Stiles suddenly whispered, snapping Derek out of watching Sophie.

"Wait, what the- _What the hell_?" Sophie said angrily as she turned around to find Derek standing in her room.

"Hang on, is someone actually there? Who is it?" Stiles called through the video chat.

"Derek Hale," Sophie practically growled through gritted teeth, glaring at him.

"_Derek Hale, _Derek Hale? What's he doing in your room?"

"Talk to you later, Stiles," Sophie told him, before slamming her laptop shut.

"_What the hell are you doing in my bedroom_?" the young beta yelled at him.

"I need to talk to you."

"What, the front door too mainstream for you? Is this what all the freaky werewolves do? Climb in through people's windows?"

Ignoring the comment, Derek said, "I saw you on the field today. You shifted in front of them."

"No, I didn't; and what were you doing there anyway?"

_I wanted to see you._

He shook his head, "That's not the point. If you shift in front of them, if you everyone sees you change on Saturday, some kid with a separated shoulder isn't going to be your biggest problem. You remember those hunters from last Friday? They're the Argents. They're ruthless hunters, and you're _dating_ one of them. If they find out what you are, they'll kill you."

"I'm _not_ dating him; and what do _you _care if I get hurt?"

"We look after our own," Derek said, before leaving through the open window, but hung back for a moment, waiting on the ground under the window long enough to hear Sophie take a sniff and say confusedly, "Is that . . . blood?"

* * *

Two days later, Derek woke up to the local Sheriff's department pounding on the front door. Next thing he knew, he was being arrested for the murder of 'the girl in the woods' (who they didn't realise was his _sister_) and was being led out to the car. He spotted Sophie sitting in the front of Stiles' blue jeep. So she'd found out the blood was Laura's, found her torso and turned him in. Of course, she couldn't know that he was related to the corpse she'd found.

Minutes later, Stilinski Jr got into the car and told him, "Okay, just so you know, I'm not afraid of you. Okay, that's a lie, maybe I am. But so what? But what I wanna know is that girl you killed? She was a werewolf, wasn't she? She was a different kind – she can turn herself into an actual wolf and I know Sophie can't do that. So is that why you killed her?"

"She was my sister."

"Wait, what?"

"The girl in the woods, the one that you're all convinced I killed? She was my older sister, Laura. When your father runs DNA tests, that's the name you'll find. I didn't kill her. I found her like that in the woods. So I buried the half of her that I could find."

"I don't believe you."

"Whatever. You'll realise I'm telling the truth soon enough. But stop worrying about me. You should be worrying about your friend. Because when she shifts tonight, in front of everyone, we both know they won't keep cheering her on. You already know about the Argents, that she's dating their son. Imagine what they'll do to her. They'll kill her. You can't let her play."

Realisation dawned across Stiles' face as a hand leant into the car and yanked him out. Derek glanced out of the window; it was the Sheriff, Stiles' father.

"Ow, ow, ow, ow," Stiles whined as his father dragged him away from the car.

"There, stand," the Sheriff said, releasing his arm. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

"I'm just trying to help!"

"Okay, well how about you _help_ me understand exactly how you came across this, hmm?"

Stiles sighed, "We were looking for Sophie's inhaler."

"Which she dropped when?"

"The other night."

"The other night that you were out looking for the first half of the body?"

"Yes!"

"The night that you told me you were alone, and that Sophie was at home?"

"Yes! Wait, no, aw crap," Stiles protested, but the damage was done; and even though Derek was hardly in a position to be finding anything even remotely funny, he snorted.

"So you lied to me?" the Sheriff asked him.

"That depends on what you define as lying."

"Well I define it as not telling the truth. How do you define it?"

"Reclining your body in – er – in a horizontal position," Stiles said, and Derek may have chuckled at that.

"Get the hell out of here," the Sheriff was telling his son, who responded with a, "Yeah, okay. See you later, Dad."

* * *

It was nearly ten at night by the time Derek was released from the Sheriff's station. The medical examiner had finally been summoned to examine Laura's body – both halves – and determined the cause of death to be animal, not human, because of wolf hairs on the body. Derek, being human, not animal, was released and made it to the high school just in time to see Sophie shoot the last goal. Beacon Hills had won the first match of the season. He felt obliged to cheer along with the rest of crowd, but lost sight of her when said crowd poured onto the pitch. He could've sworn he heard the Argent boy calling her, but with all the cheering and shouting and talking, it was hard to make out. When the crowd finally did disperse half an hour later, he saw Jackass Whitmore walk onto the pitch and pick up an abandoned glove. Looking at it closely, he must've seen something strange because he dropped it on the floor and ran a hand through his hair, muttering, "What the hell, McCall?"

The glove was Sophie's; and Derek could bet anything that if he went over and picked up the glove now, he'd find the finger tips severed through, as if something sharp had cut through the fabric. Because something had: Sophie's claws. She'd shifted on the field, and miraculously no one had noticed, not even Argent.

* * *

**Hopefully the next chapter will be up soon, but my laptop's WiFi connection isn't working and so I've had to post this using my sister's laptop.**


	3. Pack Mentality

The next time Derek saw Sophie, she was marching up towards the front steps of the derelict Hale house. She stopped to look up at the house – maybe she was looking to see if he was in a window – and then she said, "I know you can hear me, Derek. I need your help."

And his heart totally did _not _jump at that.

She walked up to the front steps, and Derek was there in an instant, opening the door and stepping onto the porch. Closing the door behind him, he said, "Alright. What is it?"

"Wait. That's it?" she asked, surprised.

"That's what?"

"That's it? No yelling at me? Are you just going to help me?"

"Wait, it this because you turned me in to the cops?"

"Uhh, yeah."

"Well, I'm _not_ going to yell at you, because you actually thought that I had killed her. You didn't know that she was my sister, and burying a body in the back of your house in the middle of the woods _is _a little suspicious, I give you that. You didn't know."

"Umm… okay then."

"What do you need my help with?" he asked, changing the subject. _'Why are you helping me?' Because you're cute and pretty and call the animals at the vet your children._

"I think I did something last night. I had a dream about . . . someone, but someone _else _got hurt. And it turns out that _that _part of the dream actually happened."

"So you think you attacked the driver?"

"Did you _see _what I did last night?"

"No."

"Can you tell me the _truth_? Am I going to hurt someone?" Sophie asked him.

"You want the truth?"

"Yeah."

"Yes, you _could _hurt someone."

"Could I kill someone?"

"You could," he agreed

"_Am _I going to kill someone?"

"Yes," he said, "If you don't learn to control your Shifts."

"How do I do that?"

"I can teach you."

"Really?" Sophie seemed surprised.

"Yeah, but I'm going to need something in return."

"What's that?" Sophie asked, eyeing him wearily.

"_I'm _going to need _your _help soon. To find someone."

"Who?"

"We'll cross that bridge when we come to it. In the meantime, what you need to do is go back to the bus. Go and stand inside. Let your hearing, smell, touch, sight; let your senses remember for you."

"That's it?"

"Do you want to remember?"

"Not really. But I need to know if _I_ hurt him."

"You _want_ to know if you hurt him. You _need _to know whether you'll hurt them."

* * *

The next night, he was out topping up the gas in the Jaguar when two guys in a silver SUV pulled up next to him. Nothing out of the ordinary – there were always guys pulling up at the gas station at stupid-o'clock – but that's when Argent appeared.

"Nice ride," he said, walking up to Derek and the car, "Black cars though… very hard to keep clean. I would definitely suggest a little more maintenance. You have something that's nice; want to take care of it, right? Personally, I'm very protective of the things I love. That's something I learned from my family, and you don't have much of that these days. Do you?"

Derek had to curl his hands into fists to keep from lashing out at the hunter. Argent leant across and used a cloth on the side to clean – or rather, just pointlessly wipe – the windshield. It was already clean.

"There we go. You can actually look through your windshield now. See how it makes everything so much clearer?" he said, walking away from the black car.

"Forgot to check the oil," Derek called.

"Check the man's oil," Argent nodded to the two guys leaning against the SUV. The shorter one walked forward and shoved his elbow through the drivers' door window, smashing the glass.

Bastard.

"Oil looks good to me," he said, getting back into the SUV.

"Drive safely," Argent said, before climbing back into his own car and driving off.

* * *

He stopped by the hospital to see the man Sophie had supposedly attacked. _Supposedly_. Derek didn't believe for a second that it was Sophie who had attacked the bus driver, meaning it was probably the Alpha – whoever that was.

"Open your eyes," he told the bus driver. "Open your eyes. Look at me. What do you remember?"

"Hale," he breathed, so quietly that Derek wouldn't have made it out if not for his hearing.

"How do you know my name?"

"I'm sorry," he said.

"How do you know me?"

"I'm sorry," he said again, and lay back and closed his eyes. That's when his heart monitor line went flat and a loud beep echoed around the room. The man was dead. As several nurses piled into the room to attend (and attempt to bring back) the man, Derek took the opportunity to slip out. Their attempts would be useless; the man was too far gone, and had too many wounds. It had been a matter of time.

* * *

A couple of hours later, Sophie burst through the front door of the Hale house, shouting for him.

"Derek! I know you're here! I know what you did!" she shouted into the house.

"I didn't do anything," Derek said, taking the stairs two at a time to stand in front of her.

"Yes you did! You killed him!" she shouted in his face.

"I didn't. He succumbed to his wounds."

"You did kill him. I know you killed him!" she practically screamed at him, shoving him into the wall. Derek grunted as he hit the wall; Sophie shifted and charged towards him, and he used that momentum to slam _her _into the wall, and keep her there. But – of course – in this state she was far stronger than usual, unusually strong for someone of her height and build; she barely came up to Derek's shoulder. But that didn't stop her kicking and slashing her claws in the air, all the while shouting variations of _"You're lying!"_ and _"I know you killed him!_"

"Sophie, calm down!" he told her repeatedly as she continued to slash at his face, arms, chest and any piece of flesh she could sink her claws into. _Bloody hell_, did it hurt, but he wasn't going to fight her, or let her loose in the woods in this state. If she ever hurt someone, she'd never forgive herself.

She stopped shouting a couple of minutes later, her blows getting weaker as she tired herself out. When she was done, she slumped forward; Derek caught her and set her down gently on the floor. Grabbing a bottle of water, he returned to her side and told her to drink it. She was still adamant that he'd killed the bus driver, and therefore refused to drink.

"Sophie, I didn't kill him."

"Yes you did!" she protested, attempting to get off the floor.

"No I didn't."

"Stop lying!"

"If I did kill him, why would I help you remember?"

Sophie didn't respond to that. Her eyes dropped his t-shirt and the massive gash in the fabric. Her arm came up to touch the fabric, and the tips of her fingers lightly brushed the large cut in the skin. Sophie went still for a moment, probably remembering something from the other night. When she came back to her senses, she asked, "Did I do that?"

Derek nodded and Sophie looked back at his face. "I'm sorry." He didn't respond. He was too busy trying to keep his heart rate under control.

"I didn't kill the bus driver," he said finally. "Neither of us did. It's not your fault and it's not mine."

"Was it the man with the red eyes?" she asked. She'd probably remembered it when she'd seen the gashes in his chest.

"Yes. He's an alpha. They're the most powerful, and the most dangerous, of our kind. You and I are betas. Obviously we're strong, but not as strong as alphas. They're more animal, more savage. My sister was one, and she was killed by a beta. He became the alpha when he killed her, and now I'm trying to find him. But I can't do it without you."

"_That's_ who you want to find."

"Yes; and he's after you."

"Me? Why me?"

"He's the one that bit you. That makes you a part of his pack. He wants you."

* * *

**Sorry it's taken me ages to update. Hope you liked this chapter. I'm excited for you to see the next one.**


	4. Magic Bullet

Several weeks later, Derek tracked the Alpha to some old, abandoned factories just outside of Beacon Hills. That's when he caught a whiff of a familiar smell. A familiar smell that made his blood boil; because Kate Argent was back in Beacon Hills.

The shattering of glass snapped him out of his anger, followed almost instantaneously by a gunshot; and then Kate shouting, "Come on! Come and get me!" followed by another gunshot.

A howl – the howl of the Alpha – echoed through the buildings just as Derek found some blood on the ground. Taking some on his fingers, he was about to take a sniff of the blood – something about it, oddly enough, smelt familiar, but he couldn't place it – when he heard (or rather, sensed) movement above him. Looking up, he spotted the Alpha growling at him almost tauntingly. Then it leaped up on to another roof and scampered away, turning again to growl at Derek. _If a chase is what you want, then a chase is what you're going to get, you son of a bitch._

He climbed up onto the roof, following the red-eyed werewolf across the many buildings until it jumped ten metres from one rooftop to the next. Derek was sure he could make that – he'd jumped further, higher even – but as he was midway he heard a gunshot and a shooting pain in his arm caused him to miss the next roof and fall to the ground. He groaned in pain and twisted his head to examine the damage. He'd been shot, probably with some sort of wolfsbane, judging by the shooting pain running through his arm.

Derek hauled himself up into a sitting position and clutched his arm as another car pulled up, and Derek smelled Argent.

"Get in," Argent told Kate. He sounded pissed off.

"Not even a 'Hello, nice to see you,'?" Kate asked, feigning hurt.

"All I've got at the moment is, 'Put the assault rifle away before someone notices,'" he hissed.

"There's the brother I love," Kate sighed.

"How many?"

"There's two of them, at least. I don't know which one, but one of them tried to kill me."

"And the beta's supposed to lead us to the Alpha. We can't do that if he's dead."

"Derek? Nah. He'll be fine. Well, unless the bullet gets to him first," she said; Derek could practically see the smirk in her voice.

"What did you do?"

"I shot him."

"With?" Argent asked her, obviously growing impatient.

"A bullet, stupid."

"What was the bullet made of, Kate?" he snapped.

"Oh, don't worry. I used one of my specials. Only the best for my Der-Bear. But if he doesn't get help, he'll be dead in 48 hours… if that."

"You don't care?"

"I can't kill either of them if he kills me."

* * *

The next day, Derek half-walked, half-ran to the high school. He needed to find Sophie. People kept shoving past him, unaware of the pain every jolt caused him. But he couldn't think about that. He needed to find the other beta. Derek spotted Jackass Whitmore by his locker. Approaching the lacrosse captain, he asked, "Where's Sophie McCall?"

The teenager looked at him disapprovingly, then said, "Why should I help you?"

This was going to be difficult. "Because I asked you politely; and I only do that once."

Jackass snorted, and said, "Okay, tough guy. You know, how about I help you find her if you tell me what you're selling. What is it? Is it – er – dynaball? HGH?"

"Steroids? You think I'm selling her steroids?"

"No, idiot: Girl Scout Cookies. _Of course_ I mean steroids. And – er – whatever it is you're selling, you'd better stop sampling the merchandise. You look wrecked."

"Forget it. I'll find her myself," Derek conceded. Obviously he wasn't going to get anywhere with this Jackass. But as Derek started to walk away, the idiot grabbed his arm – the arm that had been shot. In excruciating pain, he grabbed the lacrosse captain and forced him face-first into the lockers. As he was about to talk, he noticed blood. Crap. His claws were digging into the kid's neck. Derek didn't hurt Innocents – no matter how obnoxiously rude they were – so he let go and headed to a quieter corridor.

Derek slumped against the wall and used his hearing to search the school. There were countless teachers writing on blackboards with chalk; girls (and boys) gossiping like some kind of a mothers' meeting at the back of classrooms and in the courtyard; there were people checking their phones and the coach blowing his whistle and yelling at the boys to, "Hurry up! My dead grandmother runs faster than that!"; and at last he found the voice of Alexander Argent.

"Sophie's coming over? Tonight?" a girl was asking him.

"Yeah. We're just studying."

"Likely story. Studying never ends with 'just studying'," the girl said.

"What do you mean?"

"Hello! Are you a teenage boy or what? I mean sex, idiot."

Derek would be lying if he said he wasn't near a shift.

"Oh, alright then," Alexander said slowly.

"Make sure you cover up," the girl remarked, but then said, "Wear a condom, genius! Don't want any pregnant lacrosse players around here. We could lose the season if she doesn't play."

"Lydia!" Alexander hissed. Like father like son. "We're not going to have sex!"

_You'd better not_.

"You never know. Don't be such a prude," the girl – Lydia – laughed.

"We've only been on one date, and it wasn't even a real date."

"Whatever, just give her a little taste."

_NO._

"What's a little taste?"

"I don't know. Do what feels right?"

"What feels right is nowhere near sex, at the moment."

"You really like her, don't you?"

"Well, yeah. What's not to love? She's amazing."

"N'awww," Lydia cooed, and just then the end-of-the-day bell went off.

Derek headed out to the school parking lot, where – for lack of a better plan – he walked out in front of the blue Jeep belonging to Stilinski.

The horn went off just as he collapsed on the ground. Next thing Derek knew, he was being pulled into a sitting position by Sophie, who'd presumably run over after seeing him collapse. She kept muttering, "No, no, not here. Crap," as she attempted to keep him upright as Stiles ran over, whisper-shouting, "What the hell, Sophie?"

"You tell me!" she hissed back.

Turning to Derek, she asked, "Derek, no offence, yeah, but _what the hell are you doing here_?"

"I was shot," he panted. The other kids kept on banging on their car horns and it was driving him insane.

"Why aren't you healing?" Sophie asked, and for a second Derek thought he could see real concern in her eyes. He was probably hallucinating.

"I can't. It was a different type of bullet."

"A silver bullet?" Stilinski asked.

"_No, you idiot_!" Derek hissed, "A wolfsbane one."

"That must be what she meant," Sophie said.

"Who? Kate?" he asked. The horns were still going; if Derek had control over his arms then, he'd clap them over his ears but he could barely move them.

"Who's Kate? I mean the blonde lady; the one who was talking to Alex's dad."

"Yeah, that's Kate."

Suddenly, a wave of pain washed over him, and he clenched his eyes shut. When he opened them. Sophie was glaring at him, hissing, "Dude! Cut it out!"

He was beginning to Turn.

"_I'm trying to tell you I can't_!" he said through gritted teeth. He was so _close _to just letting himself turn – it hurt more than anything he'd ever felt before – but God knew what the consequences of that would be. He'd not survive it, that's for sure.

"Derek," Sophie said in a measured voice, "You need to get up."

"I can't," he said, clutching at his wounded arm and attempting to block out the sounds of the car horns. Couldn't they give it a break for thirty seconds?

"You can't stay here! I can't lift you by myself. I need you to try to help me get you into the Jeep," she huffed, grabbing his arms.

_Okay_, maybe he hadn't been trying as hard as he could've before, but Sophie saying the words, 'I need you," might've hardened his resolve and made him get on with it. Even if it did make him a little selfish.

Gritting his teeth, he allowed Sophie to pull him up so he was leaning on her; and in excruciating pain he walked to the Jeep and practically fell into the seat.

"I need you to find out what type of wolfsbane they used," Derek told her as she closed the door.

"'What _type_ of wolfsbane'? There's more than one? How am I supposed to do that?"

"Alexander's an Argent. It'll be in the house."

"Why should I help you?" she asked him, a little angry now.

_Because I like you_. _Wait, what?! _But that's not what he said.

"Because you need me; against the alpha," he sighed in defeat.

Something changed in the young beta's face, but at that moment Alexander himself walked up to the car. Bloody typical.

"You all alright?" he asked them, "Hey, Derek."

"Hey," Derek nodded at the human, using all his willpower to (a) not shift in front of Alex, and (b) not throttle the kid for being Sophie's boyfriend.

"You alright?" the younger Argent asked him, laying a hand on the car window frame.

"Oh, yeah. Stiles was just giving me a lift," he said quickly, nodding his head in the direction of Stilinski Jr – who Derek sensed was having a hard time keeping his jaw off the ground. _That's right, idiot. I can hold normal conversations_.

"Okay, then," Alex smiled. Turning to Sophie, "You're still coming around later, right?"

Sophie turned bright red and stuttered, "Y-yeah! I'll just grab my bike."

"Great. I'll see you at mine," Alex grinned again (seriously, did this kid ever stop being so freaking happy all the time?!) and leant down and _kissed her on the mouth_. It wasn't exactly obscene, and Derek _really_ had bigger things to worry about – like _dying_, for instance – but seeing the girl you have a crush on kissing another boy right in front of you isn't exactly a sought-after sight. Wait… _girl you had a crush on? Crush? _

Crap. He'd gone and let himself get a crush on the kid. Yes, kid: she's seven years younger than him, for God's sake. _Seven. _Just as she gets a boyfriend. Absolutely fucking brilliant.

_Thank the Lord_ Argent Jr walked away then, and Sophie turned to Derek and Stiles and mumbled, "You'd better go now," but out of the corner of her eye she was still looking at Alex.

"I'll try to find the bullet, but I can't tell you I will," she said quickly, just as the Jeep was about to pull off.

"Do what you can," Derek said, but his heart was still pounding because _he's got a fucking crush on her_.

"Soph, I hate you so much for this," Stiles hissed, as he put the Jeep into gear and drove out of the parking lot.

* * *

Derek and Stiles drove for what felt like an age without talking. It's only after about fifteen minutes that he realised it was because Stiles was dialling Sophie's number repeatedly.

What he'd give for Sophie's number… _Priorities! Don't die now, get her number later!_

He was getting too hot in his jacket, so somehow he managed to shrug it off without causing himself too much pain. To be honest, considering the last twenty minutes he didn't know if he could _be_ in any more pain.

"Hey, try not to bleed out on my seats," Stiles snapped as he put the jacket in his lap.

"I'm _trying_, but there's only so much I can do _with a bullet in my arm_," Derek hissed, which effectively shut him up for another ten minutes.

"We're almost there," Stiles said.

"Where?" That's a point… Derek didn't know where he was being taken. That might've been a better train of thought fifteen minutes ago than thinking about Sophie's number.

"To your house," Stiles said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"No! You can't take me there!" Derek said urgently.

"Why not?"

"I can't protect myself."

"From?"

"The hunters, you idiot!"

"Alright, that's it!" Stiles shouted, pulling the car over to the side of the road, "What happens if Sophie doesn't find your bullet? Are you dying? 'Cos even if you are, you can't keep calling me an idiot. It may have slipped your mind, but Sophie and I are doing you a favour. We don't have to help you, but we are. So unless you want me to drag your little werewolf ass out into the middle of the road and leave you for dead, you might want to start being a little nicer to us!"

Stiles had a point… he couldn't keep barking at Stiles and Sophie. They needed to get along, as a minimum, and they probably hated his guts right about now. Not to mention that in his current state, Stiles probably _could_ drag his 'little werewolf ass' into the road.

"Okay, you're right," Derek conceded, and Stiles snorted in excitement.

"Wait, really? Oh my god," he laughed, "I can't believe that worked!"

"Start the car," Derek told him.

"I'm sorry, what was that?" Stiles grinned, clearly enjoying this too much.

"Start the car, please, or I'll rip your throat out with my teeth," Derek hissed. The pain in his arm had started up again, but he wasn't going to let Stilinski in on that. "Please."

"You know what? Close enough," Stiles sighed and started the car again.

* * *

Half an hour later they pulled up at the Animal Clinic.

"What are we doing here?" he hissed at Stiles as he hopped out the car.

"Sophie told me to bring you here… So here we are."

"Do you always do what Sophie says?" Derek asked as he stumbled out of the car and steadied himself against the wall.

"Pretty much," Stiles said nonchalantly, and started digging around behind the dumpster.

"What the hell are you doing?" Derek said, leaning his head back against the wall.

"Looking for the key," Stiles told him, leaning down further and sticking his ass in the air. Nice. "Aha!" he called finally, coming up for air, "Found it!"

"Hurry up," Derek said, "I'm going to pass out if I don't sit down."

"Just hang in there, dude. I won't be able to pick you up," Stiles told him as he finally got the door open. Derek walked through and collapsed on a pile of bags of hay. Just then, Stilinski's phone buzzed and he picked it up.

The human read out, "'Nordic Blue Monkshood'. Does that mean anything to you?"

"It's a rare type of wolfsbane," Derek panted, "I need her to bring me the bullet."

"The bullet's in your arm," Stiles said, pointing at the growing puddle of blood on the floor.

"_Not that one_," Derek snapped, only just restraining himself from calling the kid, 'idiot' again, "Another one. I need it for the cure. Tell her."

"Have done," Stiles said, tucking his phone in his back pocket. Walking over to Derek, he crouched down and put a hand on his shoulder; thankfully not the one attached to the wounded arm.

"Come on, dude, you can't stay here," Stiles said, "Can you stand?"

"No," Derek sighed through gritted teeth.

"I'll help you. But you need to try," Stiles told him, grabbing his shoulders and hauling him up so the werewolf was standing.

"You alright?" the human asked.

"Not really," Derek admitted, but he focussed on putting one foot in front of the other and getting to the door.

"Is there anything I can do?"

"Get Sophie here faster," Derek panted as he stumbled into the main room of the clinic.

Yanking off his shirt, he tossed it into a corner and leant against the metal table in the middle of the room.

"That – that does _not_ look good," Stiles said, coming to stand next to him.

"_You don't say_," Derek hissed in reply through gritted teeth as a particularly agonising wave of pain swept through his body. "When the infection reaches my heart, it'll kill me."

"Positivity just isn't in your vocabulary, is it?" the Sherriff's son mumbled.

Narrowly restraining himself from throttling the kid – _he's only fifteen; go easy on him_ – Derek continued, "There's one other option."

"Which is?!"

Derek held up the saw. "You've got to cut off my arm."

"Oh, you've _got_ to be kidding me."

Derek slid the saw across the table, and turned back to the drawer to find something to tie around his upper arm.

"Are you for real?! Seriously?! What if you bleed to death?"

"It'll heal."

"Look, dude, I'm not sure I can do this," Stiles said.

"Why not?"

"Oh, gee, let me think. Sawing through the flesh, the bone, _the decapitated limb_," the human counted on his fingers.

"_What other option is there? _Either you cut off my arm, or I cut off your head," Derek barked, grabbing Stiles' shirt with his right hand and yanking him over the table top.

"Okay! Okay! Dude, chi –"

But Stiles didn't get to finish his sentence because at that moment Derek leant over the table and vomited black fluid all over the stone floor.

"_Oh my god!_ What the hell is that?"

"My body is trying to heal itself," the werewolf explained.

"Well sorry to be the one to break it to you but it's not doing a very good job!"

"You have to do it now!" Derek shouted.

"What? _Now_, now?" the human squeaked.

"_NOW!"_

Derek heard the saw turn on, and as the Sherriff's son went to slice through the skin, Derek heard Sophie yell, "Stiles!"

"Oh my god. Sophie?" Stiles breathed a sigh of relief.

The young beta shrieked when she entered the clinic. "_What the hell are you doing_?"

"Oh, Soph, you just prevented a lifetime of nightmares."

"Sorry to break up the reunion," Derek hissed in agony, "But _have you got the bullet_?"

"Yeah, yeah. It's right here," she said, pulling it out of her pocket and handing it to the older werewolf. Derek's heart may have skipped a beat – whether from his impending death or the brush of Sophie's tiny fingers against his own he's still unsure.

"What are you going to do with it?" Sophie asked.

Derek attempted to form a coherent line of speech but at that moment his body went numb and everything faded to black.

* * *

Derek woke up with a sharp pain to his face and Stiles shouting, "Oh, God! Jesus! That hurt!"

"Where's the bullet?" Derek mumbled.

"It's here. I've got it," Sophie said, pulling him up.

_You're dying, for god's sake. Focus on the girl later._

"I need a lighter," he said, and almost immediately one was being handed to him by Sophie.

Derek bit off the head of the bullet and tipped its' contents out onto the table.

"What's he doing?" Stiles asked, but Sophie shushed him.

The older werewolf lit the wolfsbane and once it had finished sparking, brushed it onto his open wound. He gritted his teeth as he rubbed it into the flesh but a burning pain – worse than any he'd ever felt – radiated from the wound and he screamed in pain, barely registering the minute pain (in comparison) as he collapsed to the floor. Writhing on the floor, he couldn't care less about disturbing anyone as the pain continued; like someone continually pressing a white-hot metal rod into his arm. But, slowly, he could feel the pain begin to fade, and after a couple of moments he was in a fit state to tell Stiles to shut up, having heard Stiles say excitedly, "That was awesome!"

"Are you okay?" Sophie asked gently, crouching down.

"I'm just _peachy_, apart from the agonising pain," Derek muttered, hauling himself up so he was standing.

"Well, I'd say ability to use sarcasm is a good sign of health," Stiles snorted.

Derek glared at him. Obviously not getting the hint, the human continued.

"Wow, guys," he laughed, "We really _dodged a bullet_ there, didn't we?"

"Shut up," Derek and Sophie said simultaneously. Derek _didn't _turn pink. _At all_. The room was pretty stuffy.

"O-okay," Sophie started. "We helped you; we saved your life, so you're going to leave us alone now. O-or else I'm going to go to Mr Argent and tell him every –"

"You really think you can trust them?" Derek said in disbelief.

"I trust Alex. Plus they're a lot freaking nicer than you are!"

"I can show you exactly how nice they are," Derek muttered. Grabbing his shirt from the corner of the room, he yanked it on.

"What do you mean?" Stiles asked.

"You're going to take us to the care home… please," Derek told the boy, leaving the room before he had to see the delight in Stiles' face.

"Did he just say 'please'?" Sophie whispered in amazement as the duo followed him out to the Jeep. Derek had already taken up residence in the back seat, stealing back his jacket from the central console.

* * *

Fifteen minutes later, they were outside the home and Derek marched inside, Sophie jogging to keep up with him.

"What are we doing here?" she asked as he walked the familiar route to his Uncle Peter's room.

"I'm showing you exactly how nice the Argents are."

When they walked in, Peter was – as usual – in his wheelchair facing the window; burned side away from the young beta.

"Who is he?" she whispered, and as Derek turned to explain he realised just how close she was standing to him; practically hiding behind him. And he really shouldn't have wanted to put his arm around her and comfort her so much.

"He's my uncle. Peter Hale."

"Is he… like yo- us? Is he a werewolf too?" she asked.

"He was. Now he's barely even human."

"What happened to him?"

"My birthday, six years ago. Laura was driving me to a surprise party at home. Only when we got there the house was in flames and Peter was crawling out of the wreckage. Out of the eleven people inside, he was the only survivor."

"What makes you so sure it was the Argents?"

"Because they're the only ones that new about us."

"M-maybe they had a reason."

"A reason? What could justify this?" he said, leaning forward and spinning Peter around so that Sophie could see the burns across his face. She gasped and clapped her hands to her mouth in shock. "My parents, little sister, cousins, aunts and uncles. There were people in that house that were perfectly ordinary, not just wolves. One of my aunts was pregnant, and another one had just given birth. This is what the Argents do, and what Alexander _will_ do in only a matter of time."

At that moment, a nurse walked in and said, "_Excuse me_. How did you get in here?"

"Don't worry. We're just leaving," Derek muttered in reply and stalked out, Sophie mumbling an apology to the nurse and following him out of the main entrance. At the entrance to the parking lot he turned away in the direction of the woods.

"Where are you going?" Sophie called.

"Home," he shouted back. After a couple of moments, he heard her call, "Derek?"

The older werewolf turned around to face her.

"I'm sorry," she said, "about your family," but Derek didn't trust himself to reply. He swallowed, throat tight, and continued off in the direction of home.

* * *

**I may or may not write a scene with a flashback to the Hale fire... on Derek's birthday. I'm aware that's very evil...**

**Hope you liked this chapter. I love writing the developing Stiles and Derek bromance. Please review! xx**


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